


The Hegelian Dialectic

by faithinthepoor



Series: Desperate Housewives [39]
Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Nice She Ain’t</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hegelian Dialectic

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [Unseemly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/668467), [The Theory of Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor), [Here There Be Dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673221), [Somnambulist](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673229), [Wishin’ and Hopin’](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673233), [Nosology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673238), [Boundary Violations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673240), [Fractals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673250), [Windmill Tilting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673255), [Ambitendency](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673262), [Heisenberg Territory](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673272), [The Illusions of Prisms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673700), [Keratitis Sicca](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682311), [Schrödinger’s Realm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682327), [Chiaroscuro](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682358), [Altered Trajectories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682370), [Elegiacs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1952136), [Tachyphylaxis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1952244), [Verismo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953516), [Forced Perspective](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953594), [Lex Talionis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953624), [Repetition Compulsion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953663), [Cardioid Geometry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953693), [Mereology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1959777), [Battlelines](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960131), [Enteropathy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960167), [Abnegation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960179), [Lichtenberg Figures](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960806), [Paradoxes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960851), [Plastic Deformation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963329), [Hawthorne and Rosenthal Dilemmas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963419), [Egodystonic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/196345), [Regional Anaesthesia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963512), [Antinomy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963539), [Theophobia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963584), [Epistemology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963686), [Twilight Hours](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963728) and [Demyelinated Pathways](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963764)

She has studied fine art in most of it’s forms, she is versed in the literal and in the more symbolic manners of exploring a theme, she understands allegories, constructs, metaphors, and representations but she has no idea how to describe the situation that she currently finds herself in. Sitting in Gabby’s kitchen talking about adultery whilst seated next to Lynette is the most surreal experience of her life and her head is spinning. 

In a way the arrival of a semi-clad Carlos is a blessing, it halts conversation and briefly draws her eyes away from Lynette. She knows that Gabby is too involved in herself and the scandalous gossip that was being discussed to notice the way she smiled a little too long each time she met Lynette’s eyes or the way their knees brushed together a little more often than chance alone would dictate but she still wishes she could be less obvious. Watching Gabrielle and Carlos douse what remains of their relationship in gasoline and then hold a match over it should serve as a warning, it certainly shouldn’t serve as an aphrodisiac and yet a surge of electricity courses through her body and she has to grip her tea-cup tightly to keep her hands off Lynette. Realising that there is a possibility, however remote, that Carlos may have urinated in the tea is the most sobering thing to have happened since she sat down and even as she pushes the cup away she sends a silent prayer of thanks.

The thought of Carlos’ body fluids helps her to control herself and means that the rest of the outing goes by without any untoward behaviour on her part. After the disturbing announcement the ladies never really managed to recapture the lively camaraderie that they had fostered based on that most delicious of sources, the misery and misfortunate of others, and Gabby seemed to lose interest in entertaining so the event drew to a necessary, if premature, close. 

If enduring a cup of tea with Lynette in the company of others was difficult, saying goodbye was apparently impossible. They lingered on Gabby’s path, neither one prepared to say anything but neither one taking the logical option of leaving. In the absence of Gabby and Carlos’ histrionics she suddenly had nothing to focus on but Lynette and the fact that even separated by a socially acceptable distance she was aware that Lynette was humming with energy.

“Sooo,” Lynette drew the word out in a poor attempt at a drawl, “that was awkward.” 

“Just a little.”

A smirk graces Lynette’s features, “I don’t know what it says about my life when seeing Carlos scratch himself and then allude to having urinated in what I was drinking counts as a tension breaker.”

“There was no tension,” she replies with what she hopes is conviction.

“Oh,” Lynette drops her voice, “so we weren’t flirting with on another whilst talking about adultery?”

“I most certainly was not flirting.”

“I sort of found it perversely titillating to be playing up my horror about unfaithful husbands whilst sitting with you.”

“Not the bit about Tom you didn’t,” she mutters and then wishes she hadn’t.

“And I am sure you’d be completely accepting if Orson was to sleep with another woman, after all you seemed so pleased with the Rex situation.”

“Well for a woman worried about diseases you seemed happy to wriggle out of yours clothes with someone who wasn’t your husband.”

“I was sleeping with someone pious, I didn’t think STDs would have been a problem, I guess I didn’t think about the Rex factor, I should probably get myself tested.” 

“Why do you insist on making everything so ugly and vulgar?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve been busy trying to flirt remember?”

“Which given the circumstances wasn’t exactly in the best of taste.”

“Probably not but you know it’s not even close to being the most distasteful thing that I have done recently.”

“Have you been encouraging more people to kill themselves?”

“Possibly. No-one automatically springs to mind though.”

“So what have you done now?”

“Caused a major mini-league scandal involving bribery and corruption and ruining the innocence of some eight year olds.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“So it would seem.”

“Do you want to come over for a coffee? I promise it will be urine free.”

“You and Andrew must be getting on better then.”

She tries not to find comfort in the ease of their banter but is losing the battle, “No current death threats. Do you think you can brave the potential war zone?”

“Thank you but no.”

“You’re thinking that would be a little too much like something that friends would do?”

“I’m thinking that we can’t do any of the things that I want to do with your husband and children around.”

“And I assume the same applies to your family.”

“I guess so.”

“I guess that means we are out of luck.”

“It means that I am seriously thinking that I should take you to a hotel.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not? I mean it.”

“We couldn’t.”

“Yes we could.”

“What would people say?”

“I wasn’t planning on advertising the fact, Bree”

“We couldn’t possibly,” her words falter as Lynette grabs her fingers and strokes a thumb across her palm but she does her best to regain her composure, “I mean it’s wrong.”

An evil gleam flashes through Lynette’s eyes, “That hasn’t stopped us before.”

She does her best to pretend that she is not considering Lynette’s proposition but Lynette’s hand has moved to encircle her wrist and she is certain that Lynette must be able to feel the pulse bounding against her skin, “What if we ran into someone we knew?”

“I wasn’t planning on taking you anywhere that you were likely to know people.” She clearly doesn’t do a good job of masking her disapproval because Lynette’s voice becomes laden with bitterness, “I wasn’t thinking of taking you somewhere that rents rooms by the hour if that’s what you’re imagining.”

“Don’t make my concern seem like a crime.”

“My objective isn’t to take you to somewhere where you are likely to contract communicable diseases. If you like you can bring your own black light and investigate the area before we start or you could get there first and spend time decontaminating the place.”

“It’s not nice to mock the things that are important to me.”

“I was just trying to be helpful and besides, you are braver than you think you are, you face killer germs every time you step into my house.”

She smiles and ducks her head, “That’s true.” Lynette offers a grin of her own in response and inches closer to Bree. There is something about being in close proximity to Lynette that overrides all sense of reason because she had never intended on accepting the offer and yet suddenly the words, “Get your car,” fall out of her mouth.

The power of Lynette’s smile could light up cities and she finds herself being dragged to the car with a force that is in danger of dislocating her elbow. They make the trip in silence as though they are frightened that if one of them speaks it will be to point out the foolishness of their actions and force them to abort this ill-advised mission. 

True to her word Lynette selects a reasonably respectable establishment to be the scene of their crime, it’s not the sort of place that Bree would normally stay but at least she’s not worried that the main cleaning task at the venue is to remove dead bodies from the room once the stench becomes unmanageable. 

Bree remained in the car whilst Lynette went through the sordid process of making a downpayment on their infidelity. When she had informed Lynette that she wouldn’t be seen walking in with her she had been met with an eye roll of epic proportions but Lynette had humoured her and as she looks down at the text message telling her the room number she feels as though she is dying a little. Sometimes she feels as though she is a stranger, in the decades that she has been alive there was no indication that she was capable of being anything other than virtuous to a fault and here she is about to meet her lover for an illicit tryst. Maybe it’s just that she doesn’t like to think that she’s a walking cliché but for some reason moving the venue of their deceit seems to compound her guilt and suddenly she is not sure if she can get out of the car. At times Lynette has unnervingly accurate intuition and just as Bree has decided that she will not be going to the room her phone rings, “Having second thoughts?”

“Yes,” she replies with honesty.

“If it helps, there are no obvious blood stains in the room.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“I long ago gave up thinking that I was a good person.”

“You are not a bad person.”

“I am on the phone because I want to coax you into a seedy room to have my way with you, if there’s a hell my place there is firmly booked.”

“The room is seedy?”

Lynette lets out an amused snort, “I like the way you found the important detail to focus on, I was speaking metaphorically.”

“Oh I see.”

“Now just get out of the car, you know I’ll just badger you until you do so let’s skip all of that and get to the good stuff.”

“If we are damned for this are you going to spend your eternity of torture with Tom or with me?”

“Bree,” there is a heavy pause in the conversation, “I don’t know what to say.”

“I just need to know that this is worth it.”

“Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then it’s worth it.”

“There has to be more to it than that.”

“I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got, if it’s not enough then it’s not enough.”

“So it’s reason enough for you?”

“ _You’re_ reason enough for me.”

Lynette isn’t conventional in any way but she just may be the most romantic person Bree has ever met and at times she really hates her for that, “I’ll see you soon.”

She is a dead woman walking, she is crossing a line she never wanted to even venture near, she should be paralysed by self-loathing but instead there is a definite spring in her step as she crosses the car-park and approaches the lifts. She is joined in the elevator by a couple who are doing their best not to look at one another and she has the definite feeling that the woman keeps glancing to her wedding ring – this is what she’s become, she is one of these people now, this is what Lynette has lead her to and yet she can’t bring herself to deviate from the path.

The door to the room opens before she has a chance to knock and she doesn’t have time to process what is happening until she finds herself pressed up against the other side of the now closed door with Lynette’s weight resting firmly against her own. She attempts take in the spartan but seemingly clean room but finds her attention to drawn to her sides where Lynette’s fingers are wandering up and down her ribs.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Are you sure you want to give me a chance to reconsider?”

“No more talking,” Lynette responds as she covers Bree’s mouth with a kiss to make sure that her demand is met.

With each kiss, each touch, each caress everything melts away. There will be time later for remorse and regret but right now there is only skin on skin, lips on lips and the feeling that this is exactly where she is meant to be. Lynette is clearly unhappy with the limitations of being against the door and pulls her over towards the bed. If she were more cynical she would suspect that the reason Lynette seemed intent of ridding as much clothing from the two of them as she possibly could during their short traverse was to prevent her from focusing on the fact that they were heading towards a strange and potentially unsanitary bed. Lynette pushes her onto the bed and then moves to straddle her, “Are you ok?”

“What would you do if I said I wasn’t?”

Lynette pauses, clearly thrown by the question, “I really don’t know.” A hand reaches up to push the redhead’s locks out of her eyes, “I guess I would have to find a way to make it better, I’d start by trying this.” Kisses tickle their way down her abdomen and her hands clutch at the bedspread as she tries to anchor herself to the Earth. When she has again found her purchase she realises that she is now completely naked and Lynette is knelling between her legs. Thumbs stroke a tantalising rhythm against her inner thighs but other than that Lynette seems frozen in time and space.

“What’s wrong?”

Lynette shakes her head and then looks her in the eyes, “I don’t know how to answer that without seeming jealous and petty.”

“Because of what I told you about Orson?”

Lynette’s head bobs up and down in reply, “I want what you and I do to be special.”

She levers herself up on her elbows, “It’s always special.”

“Okay, then I want it to be good.”

“Are we really having this conversation?”

“I’m sorry it’s just that this is not an area that I have ever had performance anxiety in before.”

“Lynette this about the way we feel, it’s a moment between us, it’s not a competitive sport.”

Lynette looks petulant, “I can’t see why it can’t be both.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“Not at all,” and with that Lynette’s fingers begin their quest in earnest. The strokes are more hesitant and yet somehow more purposeful than usual and Bree couldn’t find Lynette any more endearing. She wishes she could explain things to Lynette, to reassure her that the orgasm situation has nothing to do with lack of technique but that is not a topic that she wants to broach. There many things that are important to her that Lynette really doesn’t care about but despite the apparent laidback attitude she knows that Lynette is an overachiever and lives to excel. There is no way to convince Lynette that the reason things are different with Orson is that she doesn’t love him the way she loves Lynette, the way she loved Rex. The disinhibition with Orson is simply due to the fact that she is less emotionally invested, when she is with Lynette she can’t remove herself from the situation, can’t stop her mind from wanting to capture and remember every little detail, can’t let herself go. This time is no exception, Lynette’s fingers and tongue are doing everything they should and the moisture between her legs and the bucking of her hips are not an act but at the same time she is still cataloguing every nanosecond – scent, sound, touch – everything that is Lynette, everything that makes this moment precious. To let herself go would mean divorcing herself from that and she isn’t sure what would be the bigger sacrifice. Giving Lynette what she wants means giving up everything she holds sacred about their encounters, in her mind it cheapens what they have but if she loved Lynette shouldn’t she be willing to do this for her? She can’t help but behold the beautiful irony of the situation – she is capable of climaxing with Lynette but only if she pretends that she is with someone else. She is so much more disturbed than she ever realised.

Her back arches and her body rumbles and spasms, there is some sort of release but the response is insignificant compared to the seismic activity she experiences with Orson and the emotion involved is off the scale. Lynette crawls up her body and takes her hand, Bree repositions things so that their fingers are linked together. Lynette turns her head away, “You took my hand.”

“Of course I did.”

“You didn’t make me clean it.” Sad eyes look back in her direction, “This is a pity gesture meant to placate me.”

“That’s not what I was doing,” at least not consciously but she has to admit that Lynette is far from wrong.

“I don’t compare with Orson do I?”

She strokes her hand over Lynette’s head, “Baby he’s not even in your league.”

“Except when it comes to making the Earth move for you.”

“Don’t be so resentful.”

“I can’t help it. This is difficult for me.”

“I told you that being with you is very special to me.”

“Yes I know, special but not actually good. That can be my epitaph.”

“Are you always this morbid when things don’t go you way?”

“It’s just that I know what a big deal this is for you, I know that you are compromising all your cherished principals in being with me. There are so many obstacles and things don’t exactly run smoothly for us and I guess I am just frightened that if what you can have with Orson is so much better than what I deliver then there is going to come a time when you realise I am not worth the considerable effort.”

She places a firm kiss on Lynette’s forehead, “That is never, ever going to happen being with you means the world to me.”

“Promise?” Lynette looks so vulnerable that it breaks her heart.

“Promise,” she gathers Lynette into arms and while she means what she says and vows to make it true she can’t help but be aware of the fact that it seems she has become an expert in vow breaking lately.


End file.
